


What Makes You

by relic_amaranth



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gender-neutral Reader, Kissing, M/M, Other, Romance, Smooching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 19:35:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18505645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relic_amaranth/pseuds/relic_amaranth
Summary: Generally, you know what you’re getting when you’re alone with Steve. This time, he moves the goalpost.





	What Makes You

**Author's Note:**

> Just a drabble. Ish. I keep trying to write kissing/romantic stuff but I keep missing the mark I want to hit. Oh well; practice makes perfect, so I’ll keep trying.

 

Your back’s against the wall and Steve is standing there, looming over you. He’s breathing heavy and the air brushes over your skin like a warm, stuttered breeze. His arm is braced against the wall, bent at the elbow and blocking out everything to the side. Your other side is blocked by another wall. You’re literally cornered, by a man with shifting expressions– like he can’t seem to settle on a single feeling for more than a second. But you wait, barely breathing, yourself. You wait, but he does nothing more than inhale and exhale, and his presence feels heavier and closer without him moving at all.

“Steve?” you whisper.

And just like that, he’s unfettered by whatever was holding him back. He dives in and takes your mouth with his, awkward and desperate and all-consuming. And unyielding. Not that it’s necessary for him to be so adamant about it– he’s not the only one participating. But he is relentless. You break away for a breath and he’s back on you, becoming a part of your inhale. His hand cradles the back of your head but he is so firmly pressed against you that you can barely move. Barely.

You slide your hands to his back and dig with your nails. He arches into you and you can feel the shudder that runs through his body like it runs from him and right through you. Maybe it does and you just can’t tell where the two of you end and begin. He hoists you up by your hip and as you wrap your legs around him on instinct he slides his hands under your thighs and holds you with no effort.

Your back hits the bed and this is more familiar; ground you know how to tread. Steve presses in, still not giving an inch. But when your hands try to pull up the hem of his shirt he grabs them and pins them above your head. His fingers lace with yours and that…that’s different, again. It’s not to the point, there’s something else there.

“Stop it,” he says and starts kissing all along your jaw, from one side to the other. “You always do this.”

“Don’t you like it?” you ask in a daze. This is different. This is…tender.

“Of course I like it,” he says and keeps kissing your skin. “I like it. But I love _you_.”

You don’t know what to do. He kisses your neck over and over, whispering, “I love you,” in between every single kiss, and sometimes muffling it _with_ a kiss. You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to do. You only know what is true. What is right.

“I love you too.”

You wonder if he can even hear you, your voice is so small, but then the weight– the desperation seeps away, and he acts with the certainty other people think he embodies. You grip his hands as hard as you can, and he comes up to meet you for what feels like the first time.


End file.
